


Come and Save Me Tonight

by braezenkitty



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, First Kiss, Identity Porn, M/M, Secret Identity, Superhero Castiel, Superhero Dean Winchester, Superhero Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 17:21:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17187173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/braezenkitty/pseuds/braezenkitty
Summary: "Baby, you're my angelCome and save me tonight"Dean is a superhero who needs saving. Good thing his Angel is close by. Now if only Dean could figure out why he seems so familiar...





	Come and Save Me Tonight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [deliciousirony](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deliciousirony/gifts).



> Written for the PB Exchange for delicious-irony. Hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Thanks to treefrogie84 for the beta read!

Darkness began to creep in on the edge of Dean’s vision as the brute who had him pinned up against the brick wall pressed his forearm against Dean’s throat. Dean struggled to punch him in the ribs, but with the brick wall behind him and the man pressed so close, he couldn’t get enough leverage to do any damage. He couldn’t kick for the same reason.

So this was it. This was how he died. Strangled in some dank alley in the middle of the night, wearing a ridiculous costume and trying to be a hero. He never should’ve let Sam talk him into this superhero thing.

He wasn’t going down without a fight though. He tried using the wall behind him to push the hulking man off of him. To his surprise, it worked immediately. The man practically flew backward, slamming into the opposite wall as Dean’s legs gave out and he slumped to the ground. He sucked in lungfuls of air, blinking in confusion.

A masked figure stepped into his vision, dressed head to toe in all black. Dean watched as the metal wings protruding from his back folded in and tucked up against his black trench coat.

“Angel,” Dean said, a grin tugging at his lips, “you saved me.”

The Angel rolled the bottom half of his mask up, revealing a chiseled jaw covered in dark stubble, and cotton candy pink lips. “As usual,” the Angel said with a smirk, taking a step towards him. The smirk faded as he kneeled down and grasped Dean’s arms. His hands slid over Dean’s shoulders and down his chest, checking for injury. In a soft voice, he asked, “Are you okay?”

Dean brought a hand up and let his fingertips skim over the Angel’s cheek. “I am now,” Dean said, feeling a fluttering in his belly as the Angel grinned and huffed a laugh.

They’d been flirting for months, every time they ran into each other on the streets, and Dean finally saw his chance for more. He ran his thumb over the Angel’s plump bottom lip. The Angel stilled as his lips parted on a sharp intake of breath, but he didn’t pull away. Dean had the fleeting thought that those lips looked familiar before they were on his, they were kissing, and all logical thought faded away.

Dean couldn’t stop the moan that fell from his lips as the Angel’s tongue slid inside. He lost himself in the kiss, tugging the Angel down until he fell to his knees and straddled Dean’s splayed legs. They pressed close, arms wrapped around each other, hands grasping as their tongues explored.

“Ahem.”

Dean groaned as the Angel pulled away, climbing off his lap and taking a step back. “Hello, brother,” Dean said as Sam held out a hand to help him stand.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Sam said, sounding not at all sorry as he pulled Dean to his feet, “but you weren’t at the rendezvous point so I got worried.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Dean said, brushing his pants off. “I got held up.”

“I noticed,” Sam said, and Dean was sure he had Bitchface #72 going on underneath the mask he wore.

“I… have somewhere to be,” the Angel said, his wings expanding.

“Wait—” Dean started, but the Angel was already gone. Dean sighed and turned back to Sam. “Thanks a lot, jerk.”

“What, you’re mad at me when I thought you were dead and you were really just making out with the Angel?”

“It was one kiss, dude, and he saved my ass,” Dean said, gesturing at the large man still slumped on the ground against the opposite wall. “Now come on, help me get this guy restrained so we can get out of here before the cops show up.”

 

* * *

 

Dean trudged up the stairs behind Sam, only half listening to his lecture about being more careful and taking fewer risks out on the streets. All he wanted was to crawl into bed and dream about kissing the Angel; how soft his lips were, how firm his body was. His cock gave a twitch and he was suddenly very glad they had already changed out of their skin tight superhero costumes because he was sure Sam didn’t want to see any more evidence of how into the Angel Dean actually was.

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Huh?” Dean said, focusing on Sam standing in front of their apartment door with his hands on his hips, Bitchface #50 firmly in place.

Sam sighed and shook his head. “Nevermind, we’ll talk in the morning,” he said, turning away from Dean, unlocking the door and stepping inside.

Dean groaned internally. He was not looking forward to being lectured again in the morning. He took a step towards the door, then hesitated as his neighbor’s door swung open and Cas stepped out, garbage bag in hand. Cas, who he’d had a crush on practically since the guy moved in six months ago. Cas, with the unruly mop of hair that always looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, the dark stubble, and the crystalline blue eyes that seemed to look directly into Dean’s soul. Cas, who Dean had barely managed to say two words to because the guy was so gorgeous he made Dean forget how to speak.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean said, giving him an awkward little wave.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said, pink lips curved into a smile as he walked past Dean.

Dean frowned as he stepped into his apartment, something tickling at the back of his mind. Some sort of deja vu he couldn’t quite place. He locked the door behind him and made his way to his room, dropping his duffel and kicking his shoes off. He crawled into bed without bothering to change out of his clothes. Whatever it was, he’d figure it out after he got his four hours.


End file.
